


Ouzo and Swimming Trunks

by Angelci5



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-23
Updated: 2011-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-21 16:38:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelci5/pseuds/Angelci5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doyle's jealous when Bodie goes on holiday without him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ouzo and Swimming Trunks

**Author's Note:**

> Written 2008.

Lying on his faded, green sofa Doyle gazed up at the swirls of artex on his ceiling. He chucked the book he’d been attempting to read down on the floor, giving up the pretence he could concentrate on anything other than the unsettling thoughts that were buzzing around in his head.

It had only been eight days, but it was the longest he and Bodie had been apart since Cowley had introduced them that fateful day in his office, and it irritated Doyle that he was missing the bastard so much.

Whilst they’d both been given the week off active duty, only Doyle had been required to stay in London, as he’d been summoned to court as a witness for one of their previous ops. An unsympathetic Bodie had loaned him a tie, not even attempting to hide his glee that his presence wasn’t required.

To make things worse, Doyle’s testimony hadn’t been needed in the end, although he'd spent three days trussed up in his all-purpose suit, sitting on a wooden chair and drinking coffee which should’ve been banned under the Trade Descriptions Act. Even flirting with the young, pretty court clerk had done little to distract him.

So he’d had a whole week to resent Bodie for not being there suffering with him. A whole week to wonder where Bodie was, and more importantly who with and what they were doing together.

Bodie had told Doyle he was going to get a late deal at the travel agent's. A few days away somewhere hot, he'd said. Doyle had casually asked who he was going with. _Just a mate_ , he'd replied.

Just a mate? So must be a bloke then. If it had been one of his birds, Bodie would have said as much, but another fella, yeah, that would make him cagey. And if they were going _away_ together, that must mean there was something between them… mustn't it? The impact of this realisation hadn’t lessened for Doyle as the days passed, in fact it had stewed away inside him, causing a dull ache in the pit of his stomach.

Until now, Doyle hadn’t taken much notice of the fact that Bodie hadn't been around socially over the last few weeks, that he was always busy or out when Doyle called.

He’d thought it was probably for the best, after all, they'd both agreed that the recent development in their partnership was risky. No point jeopardising the job for a quick shag. Not that they'd all been quick... The last couple of times had been slow and teasing, gradually climbing to exquisite heights of intense pleasure never before experienced by Doyle. Nor by Bodie, judging by the things he’d uttered in the heat of passion.

But now it was obvious Bodie hadn’t been around because he must’ve been seeing someone, _another man_... and now they’d gone on bloody holiday together!

How dare somebody else be with Bodie! He was Bodie's partner; he'd saved his life for Chrissakes, more than once. He knew him better than anyone. _He_ should be with Bodie, nobody else.

Whether it was anger and hate, or passion and the raging horn, Bodie had always evoked the strongest emotions in Doyle, and now he was the cause of the most futile of all: jealousy. And finally Doyle knew that he couldn’t deny it any longer, he loved the stupid arrogant bastard.

Tomorrow they were both back on duty, and he would see Bodie for the first time since he’d admitted to himself how he really felt. His stomach churned at the thought.

oOo

For once Doyle was glad of the rush-hour traffic that slowed his journey to HQ, grateful for anything which would delay his arrival at work today.

As soon as he swung through the gates of CI5, he spotted the silver Capri, already sitting sleekly in the car park. Ridiculously, he parked as far away from it as he could, as if that would prove a point, then he strolled into the building and headed for the rest room.

He lingered at the notice-board in the corridor for far longer than necessary, pretending to take great interest in a post purportedly by “Cowley”, asking for the return of his sense of humour, should anyone come across it.

From where he stood, Doyle could hear the murmur of chatter and laughter drifting from the rest room a few feet away.  
Knowing he couldn’t put off the moment forever, he made his way to the door.

Even though he’d been expecting to see Bodie, still his heart skipped a beat when he spotted him across the room. He looked tanned and relaxed, smiling at something Lucas was saying as he put a bottle of Ouzo on the table.

_Well, where else would Adonis go on holiday, but Greece?_ reflected Doyle bitterly, looking at the near perfect form. He could well imagine what Bodie had looked like on the beach. He’d had ample opportunity during their diving courses to surreptitiously admire Bodie in his midnight blue swimming trunks. The thought of the snugly fitting trunks hugging all those intimate curves was a sweet torment to Doyle.

His thoughts strayed as he leaned in the doorway, and he imagined the two of them on a beach together. A deserted beach, of course, with no prying eyes. He would ease that silky, dark fabric down slowly, and run his tongue along the line where brown skin met white, before edging lower... _No, stop it!_ It was going to be a long day, and thoughts like that weren’t going to help.

Re-focusing his mind on the present, Doyle realised that Bodie was looking directly at him, his eyes an even more startling blue than usual against his golden skin.

Torn between wanting to punch his lights out and bend him over the table and fuck him senseless, Doyle casually sauntered over. Keeping his face neutral he picked up the bottle of Ouzo. “This all you brought us back then? One poxy bottle between forty agents?”

Bodie smiled happily at him. “’Bout time you showed up. Come on, Cowley’s waiting for us.” And with a brief pat on Doyle’s shoulder he strode off towards the door.

Doyle followed reluctantly. It was going to be a long day.

 

In fact, it was worse than he'd anticipated. Most of the day they were cooped up together in Bodie’s car, tracking down contacts who might or might not have information about a new cell holed up somewhere in North London.

Sitting in the Capri inches apart, the waft of Bodie's expensive aftershave blending with the leather of his jacket, always a heady mix, now assaulted Doyle's heightened senses, making it difficult to concentrate. As strong leg muscles flexed with every change of gear beneath tight dark cords, Doyle longed to run his hand all the way up the powerful thigh to the full swell at the top...

He leant his elbow on the window frame, and gazed determinedly out at the passing world. Since they’d left Cowley’s office that morning, things had been awkward between them. Conversation had been stilted, with Doyle determined not to ask about the holiday and Bodie not mentioning it. They’d stuck to safe subjects, though to be fair, Bodie was doing most of the work trying to draw Doyle into chatting. Trouble was, he was in no mood to play along.

He couldn’t shake the dull sensation in the pit of his stomach, the sense of loss he felt.

oOo

"Fancy a pint?" asked Bodie as they left HQ for the evening.

_Now he wants to go for a drink, after weeks of not being around_ , Doyle thought, irritated. "Nah, I'm gonna head off."

Doyle started walking towards his car, but Bodie caught him up. "How about a drink at mine then? Come on, mate, I've been away a week, need to catch up on all the gossip, don’t I?" he grinned.

_Christ, how can I resist when he smiles like that?_ After hesitating for a moment, Doyle nodded. "OK, I'll see you there."

He needed the time it took to get to Bodie's to gather his thoughts, decide what he'd say if Bodie tackled him about what was wrong. Which he would.

oOo

Sitting on Bodie’s big, comfy sofa twenty minutes later, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, Doyle tried to relax. Or to at least appear relaxed.

When Bodie passed him a huge tumbler of whisky he resisted the urge to gulp the whole lot down in one go.

“Splashed out in Duty Free then, did you?” Doyle nodded towards the well-stocked shelf of bottles next to the record player.

Bodie grinned. “Be rude not to at those prices. Got Mac his smokes, too, with a small commission, of course,” he added happily and sat down next to Doyle. “So, what have I missed, then?"

"Nothing, been quiet as the grave. I spent most of the week at Court,” Doyle exaggerated, “not that they needed me.”

"He was sent down though, wasn't he, even without the star witness, eh?” Bodie winked, giving Doyle a nudge. “So, what else?”

“Nothing... Cowley sent most of the lads on training exercises, from what I hear, cos they were just sitting around drinking tea all day… apart from that….” Doyle shrugged.

“At least you didn’t have to put up with Macklin, eh?”

“Would’ve been better than sitting like a prat in court, day after day,” Doyle replied, with an edge to his voice.

“That why you’re pissed off, then, cos you got your suit dry-cleaned for nothing?”

Resenting the implication that their awkwardness was down to him, Doyle felt his temper rising. He stood up and started pacing the room.

"Well it's all right for you, isn't it, swanning off on holiday for a week,” he snapped. “I had to bloody stay here for O’Brian’s case, and it was complete waste of bloody time. So excuse me if I'm not as relaxed and happy as you are, mate, but some of us haven't had a week of fun in the sun!" he finished, glaring down at Bodie.

Used to Doyle's outbursts, Bodie merely looked at him with a slight frown. "So, you’re just annoyed that you haven't had a holiday?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's right," Doyle sneered sarcastically, and flopped down in the armchair opposite the sofa.

Bodie finished the rest of his drink and went to pour another. “Well, take it out on Cowley, mate, not me.” He turned towards Doyle. "Another?” he offered, holding the bottle towards him.

Doyle thrust his glass out in reply.

“Anyway,” Bodie said, pouring the liquid into Doyle’s glass, “if it makes you feel any better, I didn't have much fun last week either. Weather was great and that, but that’s about all."

"Yeah, must've been awful for you, Bodie, all that sun, sand and sea. What happened, you and your mate run out of suntan oil?"

Standing in front of Doyle, Bodie downed his scotch and put the empty glass on the table. "No. I missed you," he replied simply.

And just like that, Doyle felt the knot of tension in his stomach unwind to be replaced by a warm flicker of hope.

"Though God knows why,” Bodie went on. “And you missed me, too. That's why you're being such a miserable bastard."

Doyle opened his mouth to fiercely deny the accusation, but Bodie carried on speaking.

"And I bet you wish you could’ve seen me on the beach in my Speedos, don't you?” he grinned. “I've seen you looking when we're training at the pool..." Bodie was trying not to laugh now, and unbelievably Doyle felt his cheeks flush; this really was the limit.

He shot out of the armchair so he was standing right in front of Bodie.

"That's utter bollocks, Bodie! If you think for one minute that I -"

His rebuttal was interrupted as Bodie grabbed the front of Doyle's shirt in both hands, pulled him up close and kissed him hard on the lips. Doyle’s fury turned to passion as Bodie’s tongue thrust possessively against his own.

They were both panting slightly when Bodie finally released Doyle’s mouth with a gentle suck on his bottom lip.

Still holding tightly to Doyle, Bodie looked at him seriously now. "I meant what I said, I missed you," he murmured.

In one swift movement Doyle broke the hold Bodie had on him, and hands on his shoulders, propelled him up against the wall.

"Then why did you bloody well go?" he demanded, trying to ignore the fire in his blood and the call of the mouth inches from his own.

"Because I wanted _you_ to miss _me_ ," said Bodie, with more than a hint of exasperation.

"And what about who you went with... it was a bloke, wasn’t it? Where did he spring from?”

“Just good timing... he’s an old mate from the Regiment who split up with his missus recently and fancied getting away from it all. He asked if I wanted to tag along, that’s all. Nothing else.”

“Jesus, Bodie..."

Doyle loosened his grip slightly and Bodie rested his forehead against Doyle's. “Don't want to mess around anymore, Ray... just want this. OK?"

Doyle looked into the dark blue eyes only inches from his own and felt an emotion he slowly recognised as elation. “Won’t be easy, you know?” he said, running his hands down Bodie’s chest and round to his arse.

“Won’t be boring, either,” replied Bodie, sliding his arms around Doyle’s waist and kissing his neck.

Doyle threw his head back wanting more. “And we’ll have to tell Cowley… Oi, why’ve you stopped?”

“Christ Doyle, you know how to cool a bloke’s ardour, don’t you!”

Doyle smiled, “And I know how to start it up again, too,” he said huskily and ran a hand over Bodie’s crotch. Then he leaned close to Bodie's ear. “By the way," he whispered, "if you go away with another bloke again, I’ll bloody kill you, understand?”

Bodie nodded, breath hitching as Doyle's palm closed slightly.

"Good," Doyle stepped back and took hold of Bodie's hand, leading him towards the bedroom. He grinned wickedly, "Now, come and show me your white bits.”

The End


End file.
